


Witch Booze

by winsister91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Drunk Reader, Drunk Rowena, Drunk Sam, F/M, Fluff, Sober Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:07:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winsister91/pseuds/winsister91
Summary: After sampling some of Rowena’s homebrew, reader and Sammy are a little worse for wear.





	Witch Booze

“Sam?” you ask, “Are you drunk?”

“No…” he slurs, the elbow he was resting on sliding off the edge of the table.

“Oh my God, Dean he’s wasted.”

“Wonderful…” Dean sighs, “You were fine like a half hour ago. What the hell?”

“Her…” Sam points at the redhead practically face down on the table across from him. Rowena. Between her and Sammy is a suspicious looking glass, half full with an ominous black liquid.

“She’s unconscious…” Dean mutters, prodding the witch and raising an eyebrow.

You’re not paying attention, too busy giggling at drunk Sam clumsily holding himself up in his chair.

“Naaw,” you coo, “Drunk Sam is adorable.”

“Yeah I am,” he giggles, “ _You…_ Y/N…You’re the nice one.”

You laugh and tickle his ribs. He flails his arms around wildly.

“Now  _him_!” Sam pushes your hands away and points at his not amused brother, “He’s grumpy.”

You burst into guffaws, “Yes!” you shriek with joy, “Yeah Dean, you’re grumpy,  _I’m_  the nice one! Man, I want whatever they’ve had.”

Dean folds his arms and does that adorable sulky pout of his.

“Witch booze!” Sam yells, pulling the glass of thick syrup towards you, “Rowena made it,  _hic_ , literalaly, one ship and…You. Are. Toasht!”

You pick up the glass and smell the contents, grimacing at the sweet but bitter scent emanating from it.

“C'mon Y/N you’re not actually gonna drin-” Dean stops and sighs as you take a gulp halfway through his sentence.

“Huh,” you shrug, the stuff is surprisingly tasteless and you feel somewhat disappointed. Then it hits you like a freaking tidal wave, “ _Oooooh_.”

“Son of a bitch…” Dean rubs his forehead.

“Oooooh ho ho!” you shout in amazement, meeting Sam’s glance and laughing with each other, “I like!”

Your head feels light, but also like there’s a been a brick attached to it. You struggle to keep it up, and your limbs feel just as heavy and difficult to control. Everything about the situation is hilarious, to you and Sam at least. You just look at each other and laugh like children who just tasted beer for the first time.

“You’re idiots,” Dean remarks, failing to hide the corner of his lip twitching with a smirk.

“Dean!” you yell at him with an excitable grin, “Drinky drink!”

You thrust the glass at him wildly, taking him slightly by surprise.

“Fine, whatever,” he sniffs the glass like you did, pulling a similar grimace. He takes a swig, and waits.

“Yeah I got nothing,” he shrugs after a while.

You and Sammy burst into laughter once again.

“Sammyyyy!!” you squeal, then change to a not so discreet whisper, “I think Dean would need an entire bottle…”

“His blood must be like…ninety-nine percent whishkey,” Sam fails at whispering in reply, “Nothing affects him anymore.”

“Ican just handle my drink,” Dean narrows his eyes, slamming the glass back on the table, “Unlike you two.”

“Well I’m having some more!” you cheer, lunging for the glass. Dean swiftly removes it and holds it far out of your reach.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he stifles a laugh, “You guys are _so going_  to regret this in the morning.”

“Sam, give him the puppy eyes,” you order, and he complies. Dean is being particularly stubborn however and tips the witch brew away in the sink.

“Both of you,” he points, “bed.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Sam protests, throwing his arms in the air.

“Yeah!” you join in.

“Him, maybe not,” Dean narrows his eyes at his brother. He turns in your direction, pointing and shaking his head with a smile, “But  _you_ …”

He marches over and scoops you up in his arms, causing you to squeal and play fight.

“Go to bed Sammy!” Dean barks as he carries you down the corridor. You can faintly hear Sam mumble something about being ‘bossy and short’.

You throw your head back and relax all your muscles, trying to make yourself as close to dead weight as possible. Dean can only laugh at you, carrying you in those big arms with complete ease.

“Nice try,” he chuckles.

“Ooooh,” you whine, “Why’d you have to be all… _strong_  and muscly and…mmmmm.”

You nuzzle your face into his shoulder while you hum and you can feel him shaking as he continues to laugh at you.

“Don’t be creeping on me now,” he teases, “I’m not forgetting you and Sammy trying to gang up on me.”

“Did I do a naughty?” you pout, nipping at his neck.

“Oh  _yeah_.”

“You gonna punish me?”

“Maybe.”

Your lips are locked as Dean carries you into the bedroom. Hands getting  _handsy_ , yours particularly clumsy. He drops you on the bed and the comfort of the mattress envelops you, welcomes you. He shuts the door and turns back…you’re asleep. Snoring like an elephant and drooling onto the pillow your hugging tightly. He smiles, brushing hair out of your face and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Such a lightweight,” he mumbles with a smirk, “We’ll continue this in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> I...I don’t even know what this is.


End file.
